His Mission
by Nightrxy
Summary: Vader is a notorious thief, known for his exemplary skills in the underground world. He's impulsive, reckless and downright ruthless. He thinks he's got everything yet this changes once he meets Padme Amidala. His plans have changed and he doesn't know if it's for the better or for the worst. Modern AU! SuitlessVader
1. Chapter 1 - Encounters

**Disclaimer : Sadly, I don't own Star Wars!**

 **I had the urge to write a story for them after shipping them so hard, it's crazy! I loved the plot and I have some great ideas for future chapters.**

 **Vader(Suitless, just his personality traits) & Padme are the same age here, 24 years old.**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **Chapter 1 - Encounters**

Vader adjusted his black suite, neatly folding up the edges as he eyed himself in the bathroom mirror. He despised seeing his reflections at times. Especially when he looked so much like _him._ He looked too much like Anakin Skywalker and he hated it. He had worn grey contacts tonight specifically because he couldn't stand to see himself with his blue orbs along with his look tonight. It was a constant reminder that he still had a part of him—a part of Anakin Skywalker inside.

He had memorized the entire blueprint of the current hotel he was in. A classic five star hotel for large gatherings so people could flaunt off their wealth. This was the Coruscent Crescent, and the gala would be held in its largest ballroom where he was heading. He maintained a calm composure, his thoughts filled with the details that were running through his head. According to the blueprint, the closest exit would be a ten meter dash from the center of the dance floor. Eyeing his surroundings the ballroom itself had one large exit which was the main entrance, a grave no. The second option...he spotted a wooden door that read staff only. The kitchen. A feast this big must have a readied kitchen, and if his memory served him well, there would be an exit for the chefs and workers at the back end of the kitchen.

"Blue. Exit behind kitchen?" he asked into his earpiece, pretending to adjust his hair as he fake smiled at one of the guests.

"Negative. Emergency exit. Ten meters from dance floor, then a twelve meter dash." This was absurdly annoying. Reasons why he hated having to work with a partner yet he couldn't deny he needed one for certain missions.

This was one of those missions, inhaling and taking a breath of air he calmed himself down, trying his best not to lash out at his partner muttering exits into his ear.

"Be ready. Lights on my signal," he barked into the earpiece.

"Whatever you say, Boss." The voice had sounded amused, as if knowing he would bark into her ear and it was completely normal.

He continued his waltz into the grand ballroom trying his best to complete the act by sending flirtatious grins to the women that had begun to flock around him. He hated social gatherings. He loved the money that came with attending one. He loved how easily all these people were deceived by his appearance, deceived by an appearance of a boy that died years ago.

He stared at the large diamond chandeliers that hung above the dance floor filled with men and women dressed in the finest clothing from French couture to European classics with their faces partially covered in extravagant masked adorned with jewels and gold.

His last resorted exits were the windows in case anything went wrong _. In case anything went wrong_ because even the simplest schemes have a possibility of failure, even for him. He was prepared. He wouldn't let a single mission failed, even if it meant risking everything. This was what he loved about his job, the thrill. Everyone has a guilty pleasure, some more drastic than others. This was his. He lived to steal, it's in his DNA. He knew the moment he was born in Mos Espa. The moment he had to steal _food_ just to live another day. The moment he felt his heart pulsing, beating when he had ran away from the baker with a wild grin plastered across his face.

He was made for this.

"Vader, target is here."

He cautiously turned around to face the grand entrance of the ball, a small man had a trumpet in his hands as the large grand doors opened and she stepped through the doors. Anakin. Yes. He was Anakin right now, not Vader. He was playing as Anakin. He _should_ be _playing_ Anakin, especially here.

Simply because there was no way a person could live with trusting—or even _knowing_ Vader. At least not in a place like this.

"Padme Amidala!" the man had proclaimed as she gave him a warm smile. He had seen many beautiful women in his life. Correction, he's _fucked_ many beautiful women in his life. He refused to let his breath hitch in his throat when she dropped her coat and revealed herself in a long exquisite red dress.

Her curled brown hair cascaded down her back in attempt to cover her exposed back, Vader fought the urge to curl his hands into her brown locks. He noticed that her dress seemed different from all the other women here. Where they were dressed in large ball gowns with intricate craftsmanship, she had decided to wear a simple yet elegant striking red dress that clung on her petite frame and spread into a long train at her knees. Her silver mask covered her eyes, yet He could clearly picture her deep brown eyes scanning across the room. As she walked down the grand staircase, his eyes quickly focused to her wrist where the _real_ prize lay.

It was an Emerald bracelet that was part of Bvlgari Emerald suite. A perfect prize for the price he was paying tonight. The $4,002,500 piece was a specific order from his current employer, and he had been promised a fair amount of money. The intricate craftsmanship made him secretly wonder if it was worth more, knowing easily he could take it up a couple thousand dollars. He had stolen jewelry before, snapping it off and escaping like the wind. He didn't feel like it tonight. He only stole when he had to. It's a job—an occupation that had his own set of moral codes.

He snickered. _Moral code_. He wondered why on earth he would have a moral code when he was Vader. Why would he want one—when he could easily do anything and everything with the power he currently had.

Yet he had a moral code.

As if he had _morals_. Those were thrown into the bin years ago, yet he found himself abiding to some of the simplest rules he had built when he started all this. When he started becoming Vader. When he discovered that the world didn't have a moral code.

 _Move your ass and go._ He mentally barked at himself.

He waltzed his way into her direction, quickly meeting her at the foot of the stairs where he towered over her. She let out a small gasp at the sudden male in front of her. Just by looking at her and feeling the warmth that radiated out of her small body, he had the urge to shout and tell his dick to stand down. He didn't like her warmth. It was inviting and it made him feel weak. He _hated_ it. He was done feeling that way.

He outstretched his hand in front of her and bowed his head, his eyes never leaving hers. If it was possible to rape someone with your eyes, Vader was sure he was doing it right. He found himself oddly attracted to this woman. He quickly averted his eyes away from her curves and onto her face that was a covered in a cold façade that screamed of a challenge. She was fiery, and by the look in her gleaming eyes, Vader felt an odd sensation in his gut that tonight would be different from all the jewelry thefts he's done before. It was exciting to him—at least he didn't put on this suite just to snap four million off her wrist and leave. It got quite boring once you knew all the tricks.

His hands found hers and he bent down, planting a hot lingering kiss, because this was what Anakin Skywalker would do. He would make a woman feel special, loved, when they're really not. Vader knew that if he fought fire with fire, it would be an all out war between him and her. He barely knew her, but there was something about her...he couldn't place his finger on it.

He took one step closer and his mouth found its way to the corner of her earlobe, he leaned close enough for only her to hear as his hot breath feathered her skin. "May I have this dance?"

That was not part of the plan. _Dance_? He didn't dance with the women he stole from. A casual brush to pretend they lost something. Or maybe a soft tap to the shoulder and disappearing once he stole her necklace was sufficient—but _dance_? Where the _hell_ did this come from? Whatever or wherever the fuck this came from, blame his hormones, a part of him was thrilled. It was usually a fuck-n-go, in-n-out, take-n-steal, but he had completely broke his set of rules.

He hated this woman.

As he stared down on her, he had felt the background music fade, the chatter of people getting softer and softer. The world seemed to be in slow motion for him, his eyes focusing on hers, watching as her brown orbs slowly looked at him to reveal a glint of amusement. The lights seemed to dim, the only thing bright enough for him to see was her. His breath hitched in his throat, he wasn't supposed to be reacting this way. He's used to this, he's done this numerous times. So why did he feel fucking nervous?! Vader was a professional and he wouldn't let a woman like Padme Amidala—

Her fingers traced his and lead him to the center of the dance floor and he was speechless. His heart did a mini backflip inside his chest, her hand leading him the only thing he could focus on. He could hear Aayla in his ear telling him a door to snatch the bracelet was out and open in the clear, but he didn't care. All of his focus was on her.

He didn't care? Vader didn't care about four million dollars? God, help him now. He clenched his left fist, mentally telling himself to get a grip.

 _Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep your eyes on that ass._

Wait, what?

She stopped abruptly and he was stunned, her sudden scent intoxicating his senses as she brought him back to the present. He couldn't help but stare at the vulnerable nape of her neck, the soft skin completely exposed to him.

"You said you wanted to dance?" she asked him, eyes that screamed she was challenging him in a way no woman has before. Dance? Nom he did not want to freaking dance. It was preposterous! No, he'd rather a more _exciting_ activity.

Vader nodded.

She was unbelievably alluring. Looking from one eye to the next, then to her lips, then back up to her eyes he pulled her closer.

 _She is_ _ **not**_ _your mission._

They circled each other, and he couldn't help but smirk when he realized they were at the center of the room with nearly all eyes on them. He had the upper hand, not her. He refused to believe or even think that way. Her bracelet was his mission. _Focus._ He eyed her like a predator and she was his prey, giving one of his looks that made most women fall. She didn't, but her blush was enough to satisfy him. Circling each other, they both took one step forward and bowed. Her luscious brown hair sided to her left, exposing her bare back to him and he wanted her to cover it up, a sudden possessive nature taking over him.

His right hand was had crept up her back. The familiarity of his hand shocked her, his heat burning the very spot his hand laid on like fire. Steadying her as his left hand grasped her own, he intertwined their fingers. Her hands were soft compared to his rough calloused hands worn from work. Hands rough from killing, stealing, and destroying. The way she felt so—pure sickened him to no end, as if he was black tar staining something miraculously pure.

He could feel the way her body reacted to him, the moment he had placed his hands on her back, she had stiffened and looked up at him bewilderdly. He swore he felt her shiver, the way her ivory skin seemed to tremble at his very touch.

"I don't bite," he said softly with a low chuckle. _Lie._ He was treating this woman differently and he hated himself for it. He was raging at his own stupidity for even muttering words that had empty meaning.

"I'm not afraid of that," she replied quick as her breath hitched in her throat. She softly placed her hand on his shoulder, his eyes following her every movement. She was intimidated yet her eyes were challenging him, daring him to do something that would shock the both of them.

He wasn't keeping his eyes on the prize, he was keeping his eyes on _her_.

The music started, the beat pulsing and flowing through him. He brought her as close as dancing would allow, but not close enough. He moved his feet two steps forward and she followed. It felt like he was a predator chasing after a prey, yet he had miscalculated one damned step—and she was now after him. His tongue ran over his lips, noticing how her eyes had followed his movement. _Good._

He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins from the way his heart was pounding to the rhythm of the music. Their dance started off loosely, with each doing the basics of one step forward and two steps backwards, each staring at each other with strong gazes of their own.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, glaring at him.

"Like what?" he asked as he faked innocence and let out a low chuckle.

"Like I'm half naked, you ass." She said monotonously. He couldn't help the smirk that found its way on his lips. She was straightforward and her dry sense of humor amused him, he found himself quite liking her snarky attitude.

They moved in perfect synchronization, their bodies fitting each other perfectly right. It felt all too odd to Vader—that this woman was making him react in ways no other has, despite him being pretty damn good at what he was doing. When he let her do a twirl with his outstretched arm before recoiling back to his chest, he had felt her briefly grind against him and he had suppressed a low growl. This was supposed to be ballroom dancing and yet he felt—he knew she was seducing him this publicly as if she wanted him to go and ravish her in front of all these eyes. Her subtle elegant movements made her look angelic. She had captivated him.

"What brings you here?" she asked, her eyes burning with curiosity.

"What, a guy can't go out for a dance in a gala with a stunning woman in his arms?" he asked smugly, liking the way he had made her blush.

"So you're here for the girls," she said dully, her movements still following his.

"Not entirely correct." He replied, taking her into his arms before leading her into an array of swift elegant movements that were necessary in ballroom dancing.

This was dancing. It was supposed to be dancing. It didn't feel like one. His heart was beating rapidly through his ribcage and he could say the same for Padme. This dance felt more like a battle. One where both sides didn't want to lose. It was as if Padme and him stepped onto a deadly playing field and he was about to lose his shit. Lose. He didn't like losing.

" _Vader, focus."_ A voice hissed through his ear.

 _Vader._ He had to remind himself, right now…he wasn't Anakin Skywalker. That part of him needed to be locked away, sealed, shut and hidden away from the world to see. Right now he is Vader a notorious thief. A master who doesn't play games he know he's going to lose. Vader _isn't_ going to lose.

If she was going to play it this way, so would he. It didn't matter if he was Anakin or Vader now. He _refused_ to lose.

Each movement made him breathless - taken away by her beauty. She didn't have an abnormally large ass or boobs but they looked perfect to him. Their feet moved in sync, her short breath unknowingly making her lips quiver and he can't help but chuckle when she nearly trips on her dress. His hands held her steadily, her back arching towards him afraid of the impact that would happen if he let go. His chest was hovering just a few inches on top of her.

Their bodies nearly touch, her fingers clutching on to his for dear life, afraid that he would let her go and she would fall and crash in front of all these people. He roared inwardly when he felt her body tremble as he blew a hot breath on her cheek, she was too exquisite for him to ignore.

It would be alright to play around.

Just for tonight.

The music came to its final stop, with each musician playing a classing 1-3-5-1 chord. He brought Padme to a halting stop, her body crashing his for a second before regaining her posture. He interlaced the fingers of his right hand with hers, making sure she couldn't run away when he readied for his left hand to snap the bracelet and go for the run, approximately 12 meters from where he was standing.

He couldn't believe she wasn't moving! The dance was over. If anything she was inching herself closer and closer to him and he wanted nothing more but to pull her into his chest and never let go. His pride was roaring and his heart was swelling with pride. She was _letting_ him hold her like this.

She looked at him, piercing his very soul and daring him boldly in what he would do. He possessively brought his hands to her hips and pulled her closer, intertwining their fingers once more. His eyes had planned his final exit, and as their faces were a mere 3 inches away—he couldn't hide the fact he thought she was fucking flawless. Her ivory skin so close to him, he was so close to finishing it all and placing a hot passionate kiss on her lips...

Everything went Black. It was pitch darkness, and everything was in state of utter chaos. He could feel her looking around, glaring at whoever dared to turn a gala into a wreck. This was his chance. He should go; he needed to go. He needed to finish what he started. But what did he start? The mission? Deep down, Vader could feel it burning in his chest. He had started something he wasn't prepared to finish and it sickened him to the core. He's felt this before, he's felt this sort of joy that didn't involve hurting others.

This was the joy that Anakin Skywalker felt, the little tingle in your guts that made you feel like a freaking teenager. He wasn't Anakin Skywalker anymore, he was Vader. He's changed. He's done feeling like a pussy.

Time to be the Vader he wanted to be, time to take what was _his._

Vader swiftly unclasped the bracelet around her wrist. Rehearsed, practiced

He got his prize and he was feeling quite...happy.

But it didn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter anymore, and it shouldn't matter anymore because he was _gone_. Vader had dashed through the exit and had left Padme Amidala speechless on the dance floor. What once was a man became _nothing._

He tried to remind himself that he had just _completed_ _his mission_. That he had _succeeded_. Yet he left the Coruscent Crescent feeling as if all he got from this forsaken gala was a bracelet that held close to no value to him.

Vader felt sickened, and he wasn't sure what the hell had caused him to feel this way when he had just succeeded. He wasn't sure why he felt like the world's biggest idiot when he had just stolen four million from the stunning Padme Amidala.

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 **I'm a bit rusty but I hoped you like the first chapter. The next chapter will be about Vader, and I'm excited to hear from you. Please leave a review, they keep me going! :) Have a great day.**

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 _ **[ nightrxy ; 07/07/2016 ; 18:36 ]**_


	2. Chapter 2 - Vader

**Disclaimer : If I owned Star Wars I'd be living the dream, but I'm not :(. Sadly, I don't own Star Wars!**

 **I'm so sorry for the slow af updates everyone! I'm so happy that 32 of you even followed it and I received so much love from y'all. Those 24 reviews popped out in my emails and some favorites and follows popping out yesterday finally pushed me to post this.**

 **I'm a perfectionist, and I'm not sure if I did this chapter justice, but I try.**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **Chapter 2 – Vader**

 _They moved in perfect synchronization, their bodies fitting each other perfectly right. It felt all too odd to Vader—that this woman was making him react in ways no other has, despite him being pretty damn good at what he was doing. When he let her do a twirl with his outstretched arm before recoiling back to his chest, he had felt her briefly grind against him and he had suppressed a low growl. This was supposed to be ballroom dancing and yet he felt—he knew, she was seducing him this publicly as if she wanted him to go and ravish her in front of all these eyes. Her subtle elegant movements made her look angelic. She had captivated him._

 _Each movement made him breathless - taken away by her beauty. She didn't have an abnormally large ass or boobs but they looked perfect to him. Their feet moved in sync, her short breath unknowingly making her lips quiver and he can't help but chuckle when she nearly trips on her dress. His hands held her steadily, her back arching towards him afraid of the impact that would happen if he let go. His chest was hovering just a few inches on top of her._

 _Their bodies nearly touch, her fingers clutching on to his for dear life, afraid that he would let her go and she would fall and crash in front of all these people. He roared inwardly when he felt her body tremble as he blew a hot breath on her cheek, she was too exquisite for him to ignore._

 _She looked at him, piercing his very soul and daring him boldly in what he would do. He possessively brought his hands to her hips and pulled her closer, intertwining their fingers once more. His eyes had planned his final exit, and as their faces were a mere 3 inches away—he couldn't hide the fact he thought she was fucking flawless. Her ivory skin so close to him, he was so close to finishing it all and placing a hot passionate kiss on her lips..._

 _He did. He felt her lush soft lips as he gently laid his lips on hers, tilting her neck a bit further to give him more of her. It was soft at first, she gasped in response but it gave him an opportunity to plunge his tongue deep into her and she tasted so—sweet, so different from the usual taste of liquor. She tasted like vanilla. It felt nice. Whatever part of him that started this softness changed, and his inner Vader took charge. He wasn't going to let some pussy like Anakin Skywalker get the best of him when he had this incredible woman in his arms._

 _Vader emerged from the darkest shadows of his façade and pushed himself harder onto her. He had replaced any sweetness into cold and direct lust. He was slightly taken aback when instead of pulling away, her fingers found their way to his hair and he felt fucking amazing. Her hands tugged his messy dark blonde locked and pulled him down sharply, like she wanted him as much as he wanted her. His hands found their way to her back and to her waist, holding her as if he was afraid she would leave him. He broke away their kiss, cupping her face in his hands. She was short of breath, her face pink and her chest heaving heavily up and down that drove him insane. It didn't even matter that all eyes were on them, he loved it. He loved the fact that there were men out there that hated him because she had chosen him. He loved how they looked at her with lust and glared at him with jealousy—it gave him raw, animalistic pride._

 _He never loved anything._

" _Come with me." She whispered._

 _At that moment, he took her small hand as she led him to the veranda Her luscious locks bounced as she sashayed down the floor, grabbing everyone's attention. Correction, she demanded their attention. She didn't have to ask him, he had given her every ounce of it, he had laid it down the first time she captivated him. Her hips swayed in a way that made him growl, she was fucking teasing him. His hand gripped hers tighter, silently telling her that he didn't want her flaunting everything. He could practically feel her smirk._

 _Once they had arrived, the curtains swishing in one grand motion, exposing the view of beneath them. New York City looked stunning to him, but he's seen plenty of views, as he glanced a look at her gazing at the skyline of lights and the hustle of daily life, even his darkest side couldn't help but say the view looked nothing compared to Amidala's beauty._

 _His hand touched her waist, slowly angling her body so he could meet her face to face. She responded slowly but surely, her electrifying brown eyes sending jolts to his body. He pulled her closer, just for the sake of it. Her breath hitched in her throat as her hands cupped his cheek, a loving gesture that he hasn't felt in a long time._

 _As her right hand came behind her head, he realized she was undoing her mask. It was agonizingly slow—he wanted to see her without her shield, her façade, he wanted to break into her shell._

 _She stopped halfway._

" _Vader." She whispered softly._

" _Amidala, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice protective._

" _Vader." She said a bit louder._

" _Amidala!" he yelled._

" _Vader!" she screeched, her face morphing, disappearing, her fingers melting away from his._

"Amidala!" His voice filled the suite, his body sweating as his white cotton sheets were drenched in his own sweat.

"Vader!" A rough voice yelled at him. He lazily opened his eye to find blue strands of hair covering his vision, just like a waterfall. Brown eyes met his, but in a way it didn't have the spark that Amidala did.

"It's time to move," she hissed in an accent he couldn't place his hand on. He grunted in response, stretching his arms in a way you would think he was normal. As the blue haired beauty left his upper body, she walked to the shower, showing off her marvelous ass.

"Aayla, couldn't you have woken up a guy in a better way?" he hissed through the sheets, covering himself from the blinding light penetrating their suite. He threw a pillow at her violently, his frustration pouring out. He loved sleep and he fucking hated to be disturbed!

"Well what do you expect when you wake up fucking yelling someone else's name!" She yelled back. She quickly slammed the door, shutting herself from his attitude.

"Vader, you fucking planned this!" she yelled from the bathroom, frustration etched in her voice. He sometimes questioned what she was to him, a friend, a partner, a good fuck? Aayla Secura was prominent in the underground world, they had met a few years back and he'd found some reasons to need a female partner, partly for her useful sex appeal. Vader didn't want her there. He liked being alone—his very being thrived on it. But four years ago, he was different. He tried, he desperately tried to cling onto the dark, he wanted to be alone, yet he needed someone, anyone.

He met Aayla.

" _It's no wonder you can't find missions, you look like absolute shit," she hissed at him. They were at an old fashioned pub somewhere in London. The brown furniture and classic architecture, with yellow dim beacons lighted up the small pub. She was dressed in a way that reminded him of the freaking furniture, her blue hair contrasting against her brown trench coat._

 _He remembered he was pissed beyond rage and he lunged himself, wanting to punch the crap out of this woman. He hated being insulted, especially by a blue haired who had no idea about him. She dodged him easily, his blow landing hard on the brown high table. She sipped her drink, before staring at him smugly._

" _You're a reckless one," she stated as a matter of fact._

 _Every inch of him hated the fact that she was looking down on him, like she was better than him. He lunged forward again. Hell no, she wasn't better than him, and he wanted to put everything he had into wiping that smug look on her face. Nobody treated him like this._

" _It seems you're unstable too," she stated, kicking him in the abdomen before he could muster enough strength to punch again. He had drunk too much—cheap rum, and it didn't take a lot for him to get high. Yet even in his drunken state, Vader was cold. He hissed at her as she kicked another blow to him, sending him falling down hitting the hard cold ground. He groaned in frustration. He usually loved to fight, to quarrel, to argue, and he certainly hadn't stop fighting._

" _You're a hothead aren't you?" she asked, almost in disgust. As she neared him, a voice yelled at him to just go there and choke her, choke the life out of her and watch her die. Reality hit him like a brick when he couldn't feel anything but pain flowing from the spots she had kicked. Vader couldn't even muster enough strength to get his ass up and going. He was weak._

 _The greatest blow she gave wasn't a kick, or a punch, though he's sure he'd lose a tooth or two if she did. The greatest insult that this bitch did to him was put her right foot on his chest, preventing him to move or anything, treating him like her fucking pet. She put her weight on her right thigh that had bent down so she could get a closer look at him. He could practically feel her combat boots digging into his flesh but she didn't seem to care._

" _You're a fucking mess," she stated, her eyes narrowing into judging slits. "But you'd make a good partner. You're reckless, impulsive, but you need to get your shit together."_

Since that day, he'd found his first partner in crime. One of many, but he couldn't seem to place his trust in anyone but her. Maybe because she was the only one that bothered to kick his ass when he misbehaved, or when he did a crap job. Or maybe everyone else was too damn stupid for him.

 _It was back in the day he had first started out. He had tested a few guys to be part of his crew, but everyone had been so fucking dumb he couldn't bring himself to try again. Each member needed to prove their worth to him in some irresistible way and he couldn't help the urge to gauge their eyes out with a fork. It was dark and this bumbling idiot had decided robbing a bakery owned by a middle class family proved him worthy._

" _I got about $589 from their savings box!" he yelled at him, showing him the cash as Vader simply nodded, bored as hell with whatever this man had to say._

 _Robbing from the middle class was a big no-no for him. What a sick bastard. Vader was cruel, he was dark, he was impulsive. But he wouldn't order someone to do something he wouldn't do. Robbing the middle class and the poor was like faking. Faking like a criminal when all you were is a sad, sad man who can't muster the balls to do something bigger._

 _Robbing from a middle class family? This guy was practically shit to him. It sickened him when he saw the man running around throwing around the cash as if a mere $500 bucks meant the world. He didn't meet the cut. Robbing from a middle class family—meant he had just taken some school money, bike money, ice cream money, money to pay the bills._

 _What a shithead._

" _They'll be sorry they messed with us, won't they Vader!?" he asked, wild eyed. Vader chuckled, a low dark laugh yet the man took that as something good. He was standing like a lunatic in front of Vader, and it felt like blood rushing through Vader's veins, fighting the urge not to snap his neck._

 _Unfortunately, he didn't fight hard enough. Or was it fortunate?_

 _He had just helped the world a bit. He had just saved it from a million minutes of this man who probably didn't have anything but booze and liquor stored in front of him. He had done good in his book._

" _Old—old man," he said, lacing with pure sick soft sarcasm. He looked at the gaping body and somehow, his hands were locked around the man's neck. He had choked him without realizing it, and it was a smart decision to have worn gloves—he didn't want a single strand or sweat or anything from this man touching him, he disgusted Vader. His hands gripped tighter around the man who seemed to be gasping for hair. His eyes had bulged out and his hands had reached for his neck, but whatever effort he exerted seemed futile in the hands of Vader. Vader showed no mercy, he hadn't even heard the whimpers or the cries the man had tried to make. He had only squeezed tighter to hear the significant cracking sound that brought him satisfaction._

 _How awfully strange._

 _The man was dead and he would never get to hear Vader's endearing speech._

" _You don't steal from the poor or middle class, that's simply shallow," he hissed, "You steal from the rich, from the people who wouldn't care if they lost a couple hundred…"_

" _million dollars…" His blue eyes were lit with anger. Everyone else who had gathered before him shuddered and he could feel them looking at him in fear. Fear, that's right. Fear him. That's what he wanted._

" _You simply…" he dropped the body, not even bothering to look at the man._

" _Didn't make the cut." He laughed a low chuckle. He then kicked the body aside and left, pulling his black coat and walked away._

 _How nice of him, he had spared the man of an agonizing death._

 _Vader wasn't nice._

Vader groaned as he felt soft lips on his earlobe, his attention flowing to the woman beside him. Aayla had changed into a white 2006 Versace knee length body cone strapless dress. She had applied some makeup and her expensive jewelry adorned her fingers. Her expensive _stolen_ jewelry.

"Vader, let's go and get this operation started," she said, playing with his blonde locks. Aayla had her ways with him, and she'd seen him when he was at his worst—when he was shit. Yet he couldn't help feel that this was different—in his dreams, when Amidala had done the same it felt nice, playful and comforting. This time, it felt annoying as hell.

"Secura, get your hands out of my hair let me take my damned shower," he hissed. She was slightly taken aback, but she had learned not to take him too seriously. She knew what they had was far from a stable relationship, it was a fuck-for-fun and strictly business.

Amidala on the other hand would be much better suited for…crap. He shouldn't be thinking about her now. Not now. Not _ever._

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"Blue, I have a visual." He said into his earpiece as he adjusted his fine sniper onto the railing of the 32 story building he was on. His eyes were stuck onto his .22LR as he followed their target's every move. He was surrounded with 8 bodyguards, each walking around and circling him like his fence against the world, against Vader. He only smirked as he saw Aayla lean off the table, seducing the man as if he had won the girl of his dreams.

It was a usual target, billionaire, filthy playboy, political ties, nothing new.

As Vader scanned the multimillion-dollar penthouse, he spotted a familiar face gazing up right through the floor to ceiling windows. His employer.

Vader was a killer, an assassin, and now—he was about to play the dickhead.

"Lovely seeing you in that penthouse while I'm here about to blow off his head," Vader grumbled into his cellphone, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Lovely for you to know you're getting half a million dollars for flowing that head off, so finish it up, kid." The voice had replied him with equal distaste and it humored Vader. Vader chuckled, slowly loosening up his grip against the sniper, looking around for a view that would enchant him, after all, the city of New York filled with its magnificent skyscrapers always had a different story wherever he looked.

"Here's how this goes…" Vader started, a dangerous gleam seeping its way into his eyes. "I want a million dollars into my bank account in the next two minutes or this guy leaves and my rates go up if you hire me again for the same guy to kill. My laser's right on his brains, I can pull the trigger in a second as long as I get the cash in two minutes." He then hung up the phone and waited while he relaxed up on the rooftop, ready to kill.

"You're fucking nuts!" the voice had yelled. "A million dollars for his head? No fucking way!"

"Well…he's about to leave, and once he's out of that penthouse it means a whole new level of security and a whole new fee Mr…shit I forgot your name." Vader yawned, toyed with his gun as he kept his eyes focused on the target. The man had been a fool to even want to show up watching the assassination. It either meant the man had yearned for this so much, or he was a complete fool. Vader wasn't sure, but he frankly didn't give a damn.

"Fucking—"

"Old man, if I don't get my cash, I'll shoot you instead. Yes, that's right, I can see you wearing your blue Polo and that fake wig you call hair," he threatened. Vader was bored as hell. He wanted bloodshed, to rip a person apart with his bare hands, not some shoot from a far assassination plot Securra had wanted.

"You can't be serious!" the voice had cried.

Vader had shot a bullet to his window.

"I can't be what?" he asked, cocking his eyebrows with boredom laced in his voice.

"Shoot the bastard, the one million will be in your bank account shortly." The voice had sounded frustrated, scared even, frightful.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Vader said as he grinned.

This was his world.

A world with bloodshed, a world with no warmth, a world where it was purely business.

 _It was a world that had no place for Amidala._

* * *

 **How'd you like that? Love to hear from you guys! Leave a review, they keep me going. Have a great day! Lastly, I appreciate all you lovelies so much.**

* * *

 _ **[ nightrxy ; 18/02/17 ; 12:27 ]**_


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